


Stay the Night

by Miss_Peletier



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, College AU Prompt inspired, F/M, Fluff, pre-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Peletier/pseuds/Miss_Peletier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the College AU prompt “I’m at my desk doing homework and you were on my bed doing homework, but you fell asleep and now it’s 3 am and I don’t have the heart to wake you to send you back to your dorm, so I’m just gonna get in bed and deal with the awkwardness in the morning because right now I am too tired to think more than three minutes ahead.” </p><p>Set pre-S3 during the three-month time jump: Marcus and Abby plan a meeting to discuss various important plans, but complications occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay the Night

         “What do you mean, ‘having that meeting isn’t a good idea?’ Raven, I’m going to need a better answer than that.”

          Marcus watched as tension coursed its way through Chancellor Abby Griffin’s body with every beat of her heart, setting her shoulders in a rigid line and angling her chin upward. They’d been just about to enter the Council Room, well-prepared for their meeting on expanding Arkadia’s fourth quadrant in order to better house the influx of people they’d been finding from other crashed stations. 

          Abby had told him they’d also be discussing plans to reinforce the wall with something other than metal (“It’s going to rust eventually, Marcus, and where will that leave us? We need something sturdier”), constructing a garden somewhere inside the gates (“Nyko and Lincoln can help us plant the seeds, and then we’ll have a steady food supply”) and sending more teams back to Mount Weather to salvage whatever they could from the wreckage. As horrible as their experience inside the Mountain had been, there was no reason to let their supplies go to waste. 

          He and Abby had a full schedule, one they knew would take them well into the night. Neither of them minded. Marcus enjoyed these meetings, just he and her, helping decide what was best for their people’s future. Making decisions together, debating, discussing. 

          Getting to spend time with her, seeing the sparkle in her eyes and the way her hair looked almost golden in the dim light, thriving on the way she grinned when they arrived at a decision – well, that was certainly an added bonus.

          But this time, they’d found Raven Reyes waiting for them at the door with a semi-cryptic warning.

         “Okay. I’m not saying you can’t  _have_  your meeting, Abby. I’m just letting you know the cooling system isn’t recognizing this part of Arkadia.”

         “English, Raven,” Abby said, annoyed. “What does that mean?”

         “In English? It’s hot as hell in there, and it’s hot as hell in every room in this hallway.  Sinclair and I are trying to figure out why the system isn’t working – everywhere else is fine, so this is weird. We should be able to have everything up and running by tomorrow morning if we work through the night, but that means people aren’t going to be able to be in these rooms tonight. Unless they don’t mind the heat and seeing our gorgeous faces at three in the morning while we test the ventilation system.”

         Marcus stepped forward as Abby gave an exasperated sigh, resting his hand on her tense shoulder. She relaxed slightly at his touch, looking him in the eyes.

         “I rescheduled all of my afternoon appointments for this,” she said, exasperation rolling off of each word and exploding in the open air. “At least ten. I could’ve kept them.”

        “We’ll figure something out,” he said, his hand creating friction with the fabric of her jacket as he gave her shoulder a squeeze. She gave him a small smile in return. “Don’t worry.”

         Raven gave a pointed cough, assuming (correctly) that the adults had completely forgotten her presence.

         “Here’s a concept: maybe you guys could take the day off. When’s the last time either of you  _relaxed_? Chilled out for more than ten minutes?”

          Marcus stiffened. While the idea wasn’t a bad one, he could only imagine what was going through Abby’s head…Abby, who had cleared her overbooked schedule for this, who didn’t sleep at night so she could chip away at the mountain of work that only grew larger overnight, to whom taking a day off was as inconceivable as rebuilding the Ark and blasting back into space.

         “I’m not taking the day off, Raven,” Abby snapped. “I  _can’t_. There’s too much to be done. Now we need to figure out where these people –“ she gestured to the corridor, which was rapidly filling with confused civilians who didn’t understand why their rooms were boiling with heat, “can stay for the night.”

         The girl raised her hands in a gesture of mock surrender, her ponytail swinging in response to the rapid motion.

         “Okay! You’re telling me, Abby. Sinclair and I are going to be working on this for the next ten hours, at least. We might even have to enlist Monty to help us figure this out.” Then, quieter: “Shit. I think he’s on guard duty tonight.”

          Marcus stepped in.

          “You have my permission to remove him from his shift tonight,” he said. “I can find someone else to fill in.”  _Or take the shift myself,_ he thought, somewhat morosely. 

          He was  _supposed_  to be spending his evening with Abby Griffin, not standing outside the wall and watching the woods for an attack they all knew wasn’t going to come. Regret coiled in the pit of his stomach as he looked at her, brow furrowed under the early evening light. What if he couldn’t find someone to take the shift? What would he tell her?

         It was as if he hadn’t realized how tightly he was holding onto their time together until it was likely to be ripped out of his hands. He gave a soft sigh.  _Oh, well. It won’t be the last meeting we’ll ever have._

         Raven grinned, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder. So lost was he in his mourning of his meeting with Abby, he didn’t even feel it.

         “Thanks, Kane. We’re really gonna need his help. You’re the best.” 

         “You’re welcome, Raven.” He hoped he didn’t sound as despairing as he felt.

         She pushed past he and Abby, walking back down the corridor toward Engineering, withholding eye contact as she yelled back to them. 

        “You guys are welcome to go in there for a minute and get your shit together. You’ll see what I meant when I said I wouldn’t hold a meeting in there, though.”

         Raven turned on her heel and was gone, her footsteps echoing despite the small crowd forming in their immediate area. Abby gave him a sideways glance.

        “You’re going to be down one guard for the night shift, Marcus.”

        “I can find someone. And if I can’t, I’ll take the shift.”

        She tilted her head to the right, one hand sliding upward to balance on her hip.

        “You were on the night shift last night, and the night before. When was the last time you slept?”

        He exhaled a tiny laugh, mind absorbing each of her words. He didn’t dare hope she might have watched him on duty, even if that was the conclusion his traitorous head was forming. Just the thought of her glancing out that small window in her room, her eyes searching for him in the guard tower against the night sky…it was enough to make his pulse quicken. He’d blame it on the faulty cooling systems.  _How did you know I was on the late shift, Abby?_

        “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, reserving his question for another time. “When was the last time  _you_  slept, Chancellor?”

        She remained indignant, pursing her lips. 

        “Just last night, Marcus. I got seven hours.”

        He raised his eyebrows, stepping forward to grasp the door handle. 

       “Oh, really? How did you know I worked the night shift, then?” 

        Abby fell silent under his knowing smirk. While his words were playful, they held an edge of concern: she wasn’t sleeping, and he was willing to bet he was one of the only people in Arkadia who knew it. The mixture of Clarke’s absence, the increased need for a doctor, and the various duties of a Chancellor had mixed to form an nuclear missile of responsibility, and her personal life was exploding under the impact.

        She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, attempting to compose herself as she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and out of her eyes.

       “If you end up on guard duty, we can’t have this meeting. We really need to talk about these issues. And with my schedule the way it is now, I don’t know when else we can do it.”

        The notes of pleading in her inflection nearly unraveled him. It was all he could do not to forget about the missing guard completely and promise her his help, but he wouldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep. Not to her.

       “I know. I’m sure someone else will volunteer, Abby.”

        With that statement, he pushed open the door.

        A wall of heat crashed into them, sending them both staggering backwards. This, Marcus thought, would have been like trying to hold a meeting while standing inside a fire. 

       “I’ll get the maps, you get the notes,” Abby said in a tone Marcus had affectionately nicknamed the “Chancellor Voice.” She’d been using the Chancellor Voice long before she’d become Chancellor, he realized, and despite the uncomfortable warmth he bit back a grin.

       He agreed to her plan, heading for the drawer. While the majority of their records were digital, Marcus had insisted that they keep paper copies of the documents as well for situations like this. Clearly, they were going to serve their purpose today.

       “How far back do you think we need?” he asked, unsure how many papers they wanted to shuffle through. His lungs burned with every breath.  _Raven was right – we’re not having a meeting in here today._ “We only started discussing these topics a couple of weeks ago.”

       “Just get the ones from the last few weeks,” she said, her voice strained as she rifled through the sketches of the surrounding area Lincoln had provided them. Even in the searing air, the Chancellor Voice was intact. She wasn’t looking, and he allowed himself a smile. 

        When they had retrieved everything they needed they retreated back to the door and slammed it shut, nearly colliding with Bellamy Blake.

        “Bellamy?” Marcus said, wiping a few solitary beads of sweat from his forehead. He started to ask him what he was doing outside the Council Room in the middle of a cooling crisis, but the boy spoke before he had a chance.

        “I’m picking up Monty’s shift,” he said. “Raven let me know there was an opening, and I can take it.”

        Under normal circumstances, Marcus would have told him not to worry about it and to get some rest: he’d have the night hours covered. But the woman standing to his left, holding a stack of maps and breathing heavily from their ordeal, erased any normality of their situation.

        “Thank you, Bellamy,” he said, giving him a smile that Bellamy reflected back at him. “Whenever you work the night shift again, I’ll take it for you.”

        “Thank you, sir,” Bellamy said, walking away with a smile on his lips. Marcus knew the kids hated working the overnights, and Bellamy’s offer was no small sacrifice. Gratitude coursed through his veins as he watched the boy leave, and he wondered what exactly Raven had told him to spur him to volunteer.

         But, knowing Bellamy Blake, she probably hadn’t told him much at all.

         Happiness radiated from his companion like the sun’s rays, lighting him up inside. It wasn’t often that he got to see her like this; genuinely and completely cheerful. They still had a crowd of people to relocate for the night, but their major obstacle had been dissolved.

         “Looks like we have our meeting,” he said, and she flashed him that all-too-familiar grin that nearly split his heart open. 

         “Yes, we do.”

                                                          ***

           After they’d reassigned people to temporary sleeping quarters for the night, Marcus realized there was one rather crucial detail he and Abby hadn’t planned when the Council Room became off-limits: location. 

           There were a few different obvious options – the dining areas, a few tables outdoors, et. cetera – but none suitable for this private discussion. They needed somewhere secluded, quiet, far from the ears of their people as they began the planning process for things their general population wasn’t quite ready to hear.

           And that was how their all-important, hard-won meeting ended up in Marcus Kane’s bedroom.

           It was the ideal, and only, choice. Abby’s room was close to the area affected by the incident: while her quarters were unaffected, there was bound to be heavy traffic throughout the evening as families packed up their belongings and shuffled about. It was too dark to go outside, and everywhere else was inhabited. 

          He knew it was only a meeting, but Marcus felt his pulse quicken as he opened the door to his quarters and held it for her to step inside. She’d been here before, but his insides still twisted at the sight of her shedding her black jacket, standing in front of his bookshelves, and organizing her papers on his table. 

        It was at moments like this that he acknowledged there was something he wanted, something misty and attainable only in his dreams, something emblemized by her standing in a sea of his belongings as if it were only natural for the current of daily life to pull her there. The dim light hugged her slim frame, bathing her in a faint golden glow that was sharpened by the small shadows its absence left on the angles of her face. He swallowed hard as he found himself taking a cursory glance at her lips.

        “Should we get started?” she asked, and he nodded. It would be a few moments more before he trusted himself to speak. They sat down across from each other, Marcus shedding his jacket and placing in on the back of his seat, and they began their discussions.

         Time passed quickly after that. They made progress on each of the issues they brought up, shifting around the table to glance at various maps and diagrams as the moon rose in the sky. Nothing was finalized, of course – they’d have to put it to a vote for their people, as they did with most things – but the excitement in the air was palpable as he took a deep breath. 

         “Do you think we should consult the notes on any of this?” he asked, catching his breath as her brown eyes sparkled. “Lincoln had some ideas about the garden.”

         “You’re right,” Abby said, the end of her statement marred by a yawn. Marcus raised his eyebrows a fraction.

         “Or we could table this discussion for now.” The look she gave him turned from cotton to steel, and Marcus knew they wouldn’t be tabling any discussions that night. He knew better than to push her when she was in this mood, no matter what he thought was best for her.

         But sitting in these rigid metal seats wasn’t helping either of them as the night went on, and he caught her rubbing her back and wincing more often as time passed. She was trying to be subtle, but her pain bled through. 

         “Abby, why don’t you sit here?” he asked, motioning to the armchair he’d brought back from Mount Weather just a week ago. It was soft, comfortable, and wouldn’t leave her sore the longer she sat in it. He got up to sit on his bed, just across from the chair, but she beat him to it.

        “That chair’s all yours, Marcus,” she said, smiling. “I’m fine right here.”

Of course she’d want him to have the more comfortable seat. _Well, at least it’s an improvement,_ he thought, ignoring the way his heart leapt in his chest at the sight of her sitting on his bed. 

       They continued their discussions, passing papers back and forth until their vision blurred.

        “I think I know where we could plant them,” Marcus said, referring to the seeds Lincoln had said would be easy to grow and yielded a plentiful harvest. “Let me get the map.”

        He stood from the chair, joints cracking, and sifted through the various papers Abby had saved from the oppressive heat. They really hadn’t needed all of these sketches, but he couldn’t blame her: they’d wanted to get in and out of that room as quickly as possible. That said, it was taking him quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated to find the sketches of Arkadia’s grounds. 

        Finally he found the right paper. He turned back to her with an apology on his lips, noting how she’d taken to leaning on her hand and closing her eyes in the silence. She was exhausted. She needed sleep, and she should have gone back to her quarters instead of charging through this meeting. 

        “Abby,” he said, taking his seat again. “We could plant the seeds here.”

        Her eyes remained closed, her breathing soft and even. 

       “Abby?” he repeated, louder this time. She didn’t even stir, her eyelids shut tightly as her hand continued to press into her cheek. 

       Experimentally, he knocked a few books off the table a few feet away. They hit the floor with a loud bang and a wince slipped past his lips, but from her, nothing. It was time to face the facts: Abby Griffin was not only asleep in his room, but in his  _bed_.

       Of all the turns their meeting could have taken, he thought this was perhaps the most unexpected. He reached forward and shook her shoulder, making a valiant attempt to disregard the way his stomach somersaulted at the contact, but it was no use. She wasn’t just asleep: she was  _out cold_. 

       A mix of endearment and exasperation tilted his head to the right and forced a sigh from his lips.  _Of_ course _you got six hours of sleep, Abby. Six hours over the past week, most likely._ He considered waking her, realizing that waking up in his room in the morning probably wasn’t an ideal scenario, but if he did he knew she wouldn’t close her eyes again. 

        She was always needed as either Doctor Abby Griffin or Chancellor Griffin, but for now she was just Abby. Abby, the woman whose sun-lightened hair cascaded down her shoulders and shone in the dim light, whose thorough exhaustion was somehow still evident even when she was fast asleep. Abby, the woman who could find the solution to every problem Arkadia faced and still be convinced she wasn’t doing enough. Abby, the woman whose head was inside the walls but whose heart belonged in the great beyond, trailing behind a blonde-haired girl who would need it to put her own back together. Abby, the woman with a smile brighter than the sun and a will stronger than any storm. 

        He wasn’t going to let her spend the night this way, hunched over at an awkward angle and leaning against her palm: she’d be wickedly sore in the morning, and the last thing she needed was another complication. So before his brain could interfere, before it could freeze his limbs and turn his heartbeat into a war drum, he supported her neck and guided her back against the mattress so she was lying flat instead of sitting. 

        He had no explanation for what he’d say to her if she awoke.  _You fell asleep and I tried to wake you, but it’s three in the morning and you need to rest_? He’d need something better than that to justify himself to her, but his brain wasn’t giving him anything more substantial.

        Thankfully, she didn’t awaken.

        Lifting her slightly, he lay her head against the pillows and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. Even though he knew it wouldn’t wake her, he tried not to make noise as he rummaged through his closet for the spare blanket he knew he’d stashed in a dark corner. A smile lit his features when his fingers connected with the soft fleece.

         Still trying to be as quiet as possible, he made his way back to her and began to drape the blanket over her still form. It masked the rise and fall of her chest but not the sharp contours of her face, not the faint lines that unconsciousness had all but erased. Looking at them now, he wondered of which memories they were composed. 

         Was the small dent at the corner of her mouth from laughing with Clarke, with Jake? Were the lines on her forehead a result of restless nights on the Ark, spent worrying for her daughter’s survival? Had they deepened these past few months after she’d left, when they’d done their best to adjust to her absence and the additional responsibilities of a post-Mount Weather world?

        Which, if any, of those beautiful lines was from him?

 _None of them,_ he thought, answering his own inquiry as he covered her shoulders and stepped away.  _None of the good ones, anyway._

        She shifted under the blanket’s additional weight and he jolted. What irony if she awoke now, after everything she’d slept through. But her eyes remained shut as she turned over to her left side, facing him. Her lips moved but her eyelids didn’t, and he struggled to make out what small word her mouth formed. She repeated it a few times, lost in a dream.

       “Marcus,” she whispered, and a thrill shot through him as if he’d been electrocuted.  _You’re imagining things,_ he told himself, barely daring to hope he’d heard her correctly. Again, that faint exhale with his name on her lips. “Marcus…”

         It was probably nothing, he reasoned. She was just remembering the meeting, or dreaming of their days on the Ark. The fact that she said his name in her sleep meant next to nothing without a context with which to pair it, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask her about it when she awoke. 

         He allowed himself a grin despite the ambiguity. If nothing else, this seemed to prove she at least thought about him. Perhaps even dreamt about him. 

         Hopefully they weren’t nightmares. 

         A new dilemma introduced itself to him in the moments that followed: where was he going to sleep? His bed wasn’t exactly spacious, and he wasn’t about to climb into bed with Abby without her permission. Rubbing his forehead to keep himself awake, he eyed the armchair that sat at the foot of his bed, the armchair he’d brought back from their first mission to Mount Weather. It was more comfortable than the floor, at least. As he turned off the lights and relaxed against the soft cushions, he acknowledged it was good enough for one night. 

         “Good night, Abby,” he whispered.

         Marcus Kane fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

                                                        ***

        The first thing Abby Griffin saw when she opened her eyes was not her framed picture of Clarke and Jake, but a portrait of George Washington. 

 _What the hell?_ she wondered, her thoughts still sluggish. She turned over onto her back and then her right side, taking in the unfamiliar paneling and paintings hanging on the wall. Panic seized her for a moment, stopping her cold until she remembered the meeting. Remembered the exhaustion bearing down on her like a missile, sitting down on Marcus’ bed despite his insistence that she’d be more comfortable in the armchair, leaning against her hand and closing her eyes for the smallest of moments while he turned away to retrieve the maps…

_Shit._

        With a deafening thrum of her heartbeat and a rush of crimson to her cheeks, she remembered where she was.  

 _You fell asleep in Marcus’s bed. You_ idiot _._

        She burrowed further into the blanket, biting back a groan of self-annoyance. This, she supposed, was what she got for forcing herself to make it through a five-hour meeting when she hadn’t slept for two days. But there were things that needed to be done and discussed, and just because she hadn’t gotten any rest didn’t mean Arkadia needed to suffer – that said, it was bound to catch up with her eventually. 

         She just really,  _really_  hadn’t anticipated ending up in Marcus Kane’s bed. 

         As she returned to consciousness she realized everything smelled like him – the pillows, the blanket, the comforter – and found herself breathing in his sharp, musky scent. For the first time in months she was able to feel something dangerously akin to contentment, and wondered how long it would take her to forgive herself if she gave in to the part of her that yearned to just lay here, to remain underneath this blanket with her head against these pillows and breathe in Marcus Kane.

         The safety she felt in that moment was just as much a byproduct of his presence as the warmth of the fleece around her shoulders. She raised her head a fraction, glimpsing his sleeping form slumped in the very chair he’d tried to convince her to sit on, and smiled. This was all him: the blanket, making her comfortable while sacrificing his own comfort, staying close while keeping his distance. 

         Lesser men than Marcus Kane would have climbed into bed with her, disregarding her presence completely. But Marcus let her sleep here and instead relegated himself to the tiny armchair that his muscular frame all but dwarfed. When he awoke he’d be extremely sore, and he wouldn’t mention it at all. 

         Was it wrong, she wondered, if she wished he’d joined her?

         It wouldn’t have worked, not that night – he wouldn’t have done anything without her permission, and she’d fallen asleep long before she would have given it. Truly, she was convinced her fantasy was just that: a mirage of a life they could have lived, and she knew it was more likely than not that it would never amount to anything. 

        They were scattered people like the leaves that fell from the trees, fates guided by the wind and the weather. Their choices weren’t theirs, not really: they were guided by the invisible hands of their people at every turn, their footsteps falling on a path that often felt as though it had been deliberately placed beneath their feet. Neither of them had much in the way of free time, of moments to themselves. 

        For Abby, perhaps that was best. If she spent too much time alone her thoughts turned malicious, preying on her fear for Clarke and the endless list of responsibilities that seemed to rewrite itself overnight, and it only made sense to stay awake and attempt to conquer them. 

        And sometimes, if she looked out her window and saw him standing by the guard tower, she could pretend that their lives were their own. She could, if only for a single moment when her eyes located his silhouetted form in the moonlight, lose herself in the singular possibility of him. Of the way he laughed, the way he smiled, the way he cared. 

        There was something different in the way he looked at her now than he had in the past, a fire fueled by something other than the anger and misunderstanding that had kept it burning before. She often wished they had the time to explore it, but such fires seemed destined to burn out before she could add anything to them. It was at times like this, when she could practically feel him beside her, that she regretted that most. 

        As she relaxed into the warmth that surrounded her like a cocoon, she knew this moment couldn’t last. She had ten minutes at most before she’d have to leave for Medical, a full slate of appointments waiting for her the second she walked through the doorway.

        Pushing herself into a seated position, her feet brushing against the floor’s cool metal, she tried to decide what to do next. There was no way she’d be able to show up to Medical in these clothes – the same outfit she’d worn yesterday – and expect not to be given some sideways glances. And if she ran into Raven like this…well, she’d never live it down.

        An alarm startled her from her reverie and Marcus jolted awake in his chair. He looked around for a few moments, bewildered until his gaze came to rest on her. 

       “Good morning,” she said softly as he rubbed his eyes, his mouth turning upward at the edges. She suddenly found it difficult to meet his soft stare, the reality of her situation sinking in as her face began to warm up.  _Good morning, Marcus. I spent the night in your bed._

       “Good morning, Abby,” he responded, standing from his makeshift bed and stretching. He switched off the alarm, which belonged to a small clock on the table beside his chair, and sighed softly. 

       There was a slight pause where neither of them spoke, and Abby pulled her hair back into a sleek ponytail and tried desperately to think of something to say. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. Emotions boiled over inside her chest: gratitude, longing, embarrassment, and she wasn’t sure how best to translate them into words. 

       As it turned out, she didn’t have to.

       The silence was filled not by them, but by an insistent knocking on Marcus’ door. They exchanged panicked glances, arriving at the same conclusion at the same time: she wasn’t supposed to be there. And if anyone saw her, wearing the same clothes as the night before…they’d both be in for a fair amount of ridicule. It would be weeks before the camp found something more entertaining, if they ever did at all.

       One option presented itself, and she took it. As the knocking increased in intensity and frequency she stepped inside his small closet, closing the door behind her with a click. She saw him nod in her direction once, briefly, acknowledging the validity of her plan. Then he opened the door.

       Abby was elated she’d hidden once she heard their visitor’s voice.

      “Hey, Kane,” Raven said, the strain of a sleepless night thickening her words. “Just wanted you to know we got the cooling system back up and running. It’s all good.” 

      “That’s great,” Marcus said. “Thank you, Raven. I’ll be sure to stop by Engineering today and thank Sinclair and Monty as well.”

      “Yep,” the girl said. Abby leaned forward despite her better judgment, her Chancellor instinct overpowering her will to stay hidden. “I mean, that’s what we’re here for, right? Anyway, I was going to tell Abby the good news but I can’t find her anywhere. She isn’t in her room, or in Medical…Monty said he walked through the whole camp and didn’t see her.”

      “That’s odd,” Marcus said, a little too quickly. Abby cringed. “Well, I’ll let her know if I see her first.”

      A deafening silence rang out for a few moments, and then:

      “Hey, isn’t that her jacket?”

      “No,” Marcus stuttered, realizing Raven had looked past him at the black garment thrown across the back of one of his chairs. Abby could practically feel the temperature in the room rising as his cheeks flushed.  _Shit._ She should have known this was going too well.

      “Are you sure?” Raven asked, her tone veering into teasing territory. “Because I’m almost  _positive_  that’s the one she was wearing yesterday. How the hell did it end up in your room, Kane?”  

        Abby debated between staying hidden and rescuing him, between letting him fumble through the conversation and revealing herself to the girl’s gleeful gaze. She knew she couldn’t watch Marcus Kane suffer for much longer: this conversation was going to end up at its destination no matter what she did, and it was now up to her to determine how painful the journey would be.

        With a sigh, she undid the latch and stepped back into Arkadia’s morning light.

        “Oh my God,” Raven said, grinning. Marcus stared at her, mouth hanging open.

        “Raven, this isn’t what it-“ Abby started, moving toward her, but she wasn’t finished. Marcus still hadn’t closed his mouth, his brown eyes wide with shock.

        “Oh my  _God_.”

_Straight to the point, then._

        “I fell asleep in his room last night, Raven. Nothing happened.”

        Raven’s grin had morphed into a smirk, eyes sparkling with delight. 

        “Is this why you guys were so bummed when you thought you’d have to cancel your meeting? Holy shit, Abby. Now it all makes sense. You do know you don’t have to use the Chancellorship as an excuse when you want to hook up with someone, right? Like, you don’t have to pretend you’re discussing important Arkadia stuff. You can just do it.”

       “We were having a meeting, actually,” Marcus chimed in, holding up one of the maps from its position on the table. Abby knew at this point it was too little, too late. Raven didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

        “God, this is hilarious. We thought you guys had something going, but I wasn’t expecting proof so soon. Bellamy had better pay up.”

        She raised an eyebrow, meeting Marcus’ gaze briefly. Why wasn’t she surprised there were betting pools on the state of their relationship?

       “Raven, I’ll say it again. Nothing. Happened.”

       “Right,” she responded with a wink. “Well, you probably heard from your hiding place  _in the closet_  –“ she paused for a laugh – “but the cooling system is fixed. So you guys are free to hold your meetings in the Council Room now…or not, I guess, if you make more  _progress_  in Kane’s room. See ya around.”

       Raven walked away, the door to Marcus’ quarters slamming shut behind her. 

      “What was that?” Marcus asked. She was relieved to find he didn’t sound angry: rather, he seemed amused.

      “We both know where that conversation was going,” she said, moving to pick up the jacket that had betrayed them. “It would have happened eventually.”

       They were both quiet as she gathered her things, folding the maps and notes into a small pile. She’d gained a few extra minutes in her morning routine: now that Raven had seen her, there was no need to change clothes. By the time she made it to Medical, the news would have swept the camp.

       “I’m sorry, Abby,” he said, handing her the last of her materials. “I tried to wake you, but you were sound asleep. I should have tried harder.”

       She looked at him then, really looked at him, and found herself wishing those impossible things once again. Wishing that they’d given Arkadia something  _real_  to talk about, wishing he’d joined her last night, wishing they had more time to spend together. But since her time wasn’t hers to give, all she had for him was her words.

       “Don’t be,” she said with a smile. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks.”


End file.
